


After Assimilation

by Miiabatg



Category: Original Work
Genre: Airships, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Future, Assimilationists, Biological Warfare, Biological Weapons, Cyberpunk, Disability, F/F, F/M, Future, Future Fic, Galactic Air Force, Galactic Army, Gen, I mean actual ships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Interplanetary Travel, Original Character(s), Original work - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Science Fiction, Spaceships, Technology, a short description about some messed up leg, also, assimilized, fashion :), futuristic fashion, haha - Freeform, minimal romance, plz read, some bits about war, this is an, veteran, want to take over the world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 19,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27455104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miiabatg/pseuds/Miiabatg
Summary: Six years ago, the Assimilationists rose to power and nearly achieved world domination with their notorious biological weapon.Ever since age 13, Rayder had always dreamed to be a part of their defeat.  Even getting assimilized during her stint in the Galactic Army didn't stop her.  Then the Assimilationists bombed Omicron, and it was all over.  The Assimilationists have since been defeated, but Rayder?  She's lost touch with everyone, even herself.If she leaves the safety and isolation of Namun and makes her way blindly through the dark, will she be able to finally leave her memories in the past?
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 9
Kudos: 3





	1. Namun

_ BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! _

Rayder jolted awake. Her tiny, dented alarm clock read 5:00 AM, and the smog-choked streets of Namun were crowded with menial workers on their way to their jobs. That meant she wasn’t late–but she wasn’t early either.

On her way to the bathroom, she passed the one, cracked mirror she owned, remembering when she’d had dozens of every shape and size. Through the grime on its silver surface, she could see her sleepy, grey eyes and scraggly, electric-blue hair, roughly cut into sort of a bob shape with stringy bangs. It had cost her a lot for the dye, but it was the one thing from her old life that she wasn’t willing to give up.

Hastily brushing her teeth with one hand and tugging on clothes with her other, Rayder didn’t have any time to think about the silly frocks she used to wear. Rainbow fishnets and holographic vinyl had been replaced by old turtlenecks, cropped sweaters in clashing colors, and the oldest of old white sweatpants, now half brown but necessary to hide her assimilized leg. A pair of black suspenders hung from the waist, futile in any attempt to make her outfit better. Her worn-down green boots had weathered many a storm… of mud.

Grabbing her small, battered, blue denim backpack full of her essentials, she headed out the door to the bus stop. One last memento from Almorix before she’d quit.

The Namun hover-buses clanked and never seemed to be able to stay at a constant speed. Unsurprisingly, no one used it if they could help it, but Rayder could barely make the walk from her apartment to the greenhouses without shooting pains crippling her left leg. The first time she’d done so, she’d collapsed when she got to her destination. Her assimilation was on the moderate side, so it would be a year or two before she’d have trouble walking and five years to a decade before she wouldn’t be able to walk at all.

Half an hour of jolts and worrying squeaks later, the hover-bus screeched to a halt in front of the greenhouse facility doors. Rayder thanked the driver, paid her fare, and stepped out into the weak sunlight.

She felt the usual rush of humid air as she entered the bare, impersonal front desk and signed in. Lais had the majority of her workers toiling in the fruit section as summer had almost arrived and there would surely be an influx of people who wanted those fresh, juicy strawberries and sweet, ripe mangoes that Rayder hadn’t tasted for over a year.

As she slipped on a pair of gardening gloves—worn through with holes—Lais strode in, bristling.

“You couldn’t have come earlier?” Lais tersely snagged a shovel, almost 90% rust, examined it, then sighed deeply. As the caretaker of Namun’s greenhouse facility, she did just about everything. New workers were valued, but infrequent. Who wanted to dig in the dirt all day? Especially those in poorer provinces like Namun’s; they were dirty, harsh, and unfriendly. Only those who were forced to find minimum wage jobs worked at jobs like these.

All greenhouses across the galaxies grew GMOs, so there really was no difference in quality, only quantity. Because Namun was a small town, mostly filled with factory workers, there was just enough basic food for everyone. The high-quality fruits and vegetables that grew in Namun’s greenhouse would be shipped to the capital of the capital planet of the galaxy, where there weren’t enough greenhouses for the high-standing capital society to be satisfied with.

As Rayder followed Lais to the fruit room, she remembered Omicron, where there were skyscrapers so high, you had to wear oxygen masks on the top floor, the delicacies brought in from all over the galaxy, the eyeful of couture you could be blinded with just by scanning one block. With a bitter laugh (not out loud, of course), she thought,  _ Now I know how they all got there _ .

During her fanciful teenage years, she’d never once given a thought about the poorer parts of the planet. Sure, she’d seen pictures of factorial planets and been sorry for them—even more so when she’d met Zaré—but for the most part, her dreams had consisted of battling the Assimilationists, defeating them, and being recognized for more than just being the assimilized teenager, too experienced for her age.

Xel, the capital planet of the Calesius Galaxy, was painted as a progressive, high-tech wonderland, with Omicron in the center of it all, but like all planets, there were the shady regions that often went unnoticed.

Her parents would have despaired at the thought of her now, a useless veteran in the worst parts of the planet. What if her friends could see her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my editor who basically saved this entire story. I don't think she'll want to be mentioned, but hey, she deserves it! :D


	2. The Invitation

Rayder’s arms were exhausted to the bone after her daily duties at the greenhouse. Her numb fingers fumbled to open her mailbox, take out a couple letters and then close it again before unlocking her front door.

The space was only big enough for a tiny kitchenette, a small table and two chairs, a toilet and sink with no divider, and a bed, which she collapsed on, being careful not to squash her mail. She massaged her stiff left leg, her assimilized one, and tried not to wince as she felt the cold, blackened flesh.

Rayder turned back to her mail. Squinting to see the words in the fading sunlight, she thumbed through the stack:

Government letters, various ads, and a small cardboard box addressed to her from…  _ Newfangle _ . In her tiredness, she hadn’t noticed the bubbly lettering or the high-quality cardboard used in the package and scrambled to open it. There was only one person who would send anything from Newfangle.

From a tiny, but expensive-looking, temporary hologram, a familiar face stared straight at her. It was jarring, to say the least. She hadn’t seen a screen with such high-quality pixels for a year.

Delphine had switched from her golden blonde locks to silky, platinum ponytail, with streaks of metallic pink and blue and slightly ashy roots (so that it didn’t blend in with her skin, something that all wealthy teenagers knew). Such a face full of life had never been seen in Namun. Delphine’s bright blue eyes twinkled as she smiled up at Rayder before speaking.

“EEEE! I can’t believe you’re finally seeing me!” Delphine still had her trademark, slightly askew smile which expressed her upbeat and easygoing personality perfectly. “What happened to your holophone? None of my texts were delivered. Did you change your number and not tell us?”

Rayder winced as she remembered how she’d sold her top-of-the-line holophone a month after leaving Almorix. The reason she’d sold everything she’d owned was not only to free herself of the bad memories but also because she’d decided on a single minded lifetime goal.

She wanted a cargo ship of her own. It was a big goal, especially with no other income except a measly minimum wage job, but she’d purposely chosen it because it was slow. Fearful of turning into another bitter veteran, a drug addict, or an alcoholic, she’d decided she needed a goal, so she’d set an impossible one on purpose.

Rayder had already obtained her cargo and passenger licenses, just like all the other wannabe pilots at her old combat pilot school, Almorix, in order to help her fit in. The scholarship to Almorix she’d been awarded was not completely because of her talent; it was more a compensation for her crippled, assimilized leg. Not wanting to look like a needy veteran with terminal damage, she’d done all she could to make herself like a “new” armed forces student.

Delphine continued, “But anyway, I totally paid for your trip to Newfangle, so no worries there–”

Another voice interrupted Delphine, who looked somewhere offscreen.

“You need to tell her why she’s coming,” reminded the muffled voice of Zaré, another one of Rayder’s Almorix roommates and BFFs.

“Oh right.” Delphine gave a tinkly laugh and then faced the screen again. “Averi’s. Getting. MARRIED!”

The hologram base tumbled from Rayder’s hands, bounced off the bed, and clattered to the floor.

Delphine’s disembodied voice continued, “So your digital tickets are right in this message. Just show my private pilot this hologram on the fifth of June and he’ll take you here. Her wedding’s at the end of August, so we’ll be able to spend some quality time together.”

Rayder picked the hologram up just as Delphine was saying, “You don’t have to worry about money at all, so take some time off your job or whatever. If your boss doesn’t agree, just report him to me. I can’t wait to see you!”

On that note, her face disappeared and a voice icon appeared, pulsing as Delphine’s voice addressed her private pilot. It was rather funny that she had one; she’d graduated from Almorix, no?

Nevertheless, Rayder switched the hologram base off and was left with ringing silence, as if Delphine had occupied some part of the room and now it was painfully empty.

Now, she was faced with a choice, not about her job, but about her dreams and seeing her friends, not to mention her assimilized leg. Was not seeing her friends, who had probably changed over the year, worth staying in Namun, away from any bad memories and snobbish celebrities?

Rayder shuddered, alone in the darkness, fighting desperately to keep any and all flashbacks away from her mind. Inside, her thoughts clashed with each other, furiously debating the pros and cons of leaving the safety of Namun.

_ You’ll have to face those memories one way or another, and wouldn’t you like to see your friends again? _

_ But you’re not ready to face them, and you’re so different now! No matter what, you’ll never be accepted the same way again. Now that they’ve all graduated and you dropped out, what do you think they think of you now? _

_ You were in the Galactic Army, you faced the Assimilationists– _

_ You weren’t even there for the defeat, how can you credit their downfall to yourself! What kind of soldier are you? _

After a long night of tossing and turning, she made her decision.

She would be leaving for Newfangle in two days.


	3. The Return

Packing didn’t even take the estimated five minutes. She only had two other sets of clothes: some old, ripped jeans and a black tank top and her old, white, completely demolished prom dress which were already in her backpack.

***

Delphine’s private shuttle was classy, classier than Rayder had remembered Delphine being. Everything was white, gold, or red, with not even the slightest bit of glitter.

There was an odd sort of pressure weighing down her lungs as she took a seat on a velvet sofa and buckled in.

It had been ages since she’d flown on an airship, especially a passenger ship as luxurious as this one, and once the ship was hurtling off into space, she felt… she felt a little more like how she’d been during and before Almorix, as if she’d gone back in time.

The freshly waxed ship smelled of heaven, and the pressure of the take off felt like a hug. Soon, the grey sky turned to blue, and the blue sky turned to black before the twinkling of a million stars filled the windows.

Like a little kid, she pressed her nose against the glass and luxuriated in the sight of Xel, which she hadn’t seen from afar for over a year. The blues were deeper than she’d remembered, the greens richer, and the whites, more flawless than those brand new, diamond earrings she’d sold to a pawn shop for a measly $90,000 when she’d first moved to Namun.

Breathtaking though it was, it was very difficult to miss the large, ominous, smoke-colored spot half in the light of the Sun, half under shadow. Even though it was smog-filled and obscured by radiation, Rayder knew exactly what lay underneath.

She had been granted a day to see Omicron a month after it was bombed along with other Almorix students from Xel. She’d donned the heavy, yellow, hazmat suit and ventilator mask. Never in a million years had she ever thought she’d visit a planet and need to wear a mask like Zaré’s. Hazy flashbacks from that day began to circulate in her mind. The flattened towers, the firefighters in hazmat suits desperately trying to lug away debris to find anything that had survived, alive or dead. The smog that choked her, even through the mask. Oh wait, she hadn’t been able to breathe because she’d been crying so hard, she couldn’t take a breath.

In real time, she brushed a finger under her eyes. Her cheek was dry, thankfully. If her friends saw her cry, they’d fuss, and Rayder didn’t want or need fussing. She just needed to move on. Which was exactly why she’d dropped out of Almorix a year earlier, sold all her fancy, expensive clothing and jewelry that she’d taken to Almorix (none of her or her parents’ possessions had survived the bombing), and moved to the poorest part of Xel.

According to the navigation screen, the ship still had an hour to go before reaching Newfangle. Contented to simply drink up the universe outside the ship, she mindlessly reacquainted herself with the sights of space.


	4. Zaré

From the ship, she was transferred to a sleek limousine and then plopped, unceremoniously, in front of a tall, luxurious-looking skyscraper.

A year or two ago, she would have felt right at home on the streets of the city, probably dressed in some eye-catching outfit, but in her dirty, orange vest, filthy clothing, and messy hair, she felt like she was catching the wrong kind of attention. Never had she ever been looked down upon by the upper class; in fact, they’d looked up to her, admired her. Now, they scoffed and continued their brainless yapping.

Rayder shivered with nerves as she gazed up at the intimidatingly pulled up building. It seemed to say, _You don’t belong here anymore, get lost_!

Steeling herself, Rayder climbed the steps to the doorman operated front door. He barely looked at her before pressing a button to open them.

A blast of AC and the strains of classical music were the first things she noticed before taking in the sparkles. She’d forgotten how sparkly they liked things in Newfangle. Half blinded by memories and reflected light, she walked up to the front desk.

“Delivery?” asked the front desk girl, dressed in an immaculate, sapphire cocktail dress and looking at Rayder with disgust.

“Um, I’m here to visit Delphine Laoris.”

Raising her eyebrows, the girl pursed her lips and said, “As if. Harri, we have another infiltrator!”

A uniformed guard who had been standing in the shadows, unnoticed, approached Rayder and roughly grabbed her by the arms.

“I’m not an infiltrator!” Rayder argued as she was led towards the doors.

Infiltrators were common in these parts of cities all around the universe. Aggressive fans who would stop at nothing to meet their idols would pretend to have an existing appointment with a celebrity and then ambush them with things to sign and pressing questions, which would then lead to a lot of disasters. How famous was Delphine, if she received infiltrators regularly?

“Excuse me?”

The front desk girl, the guard, and Rayder all turned to see a girl with black hair that ombré-d to blonde as it travelled down.

The girl’s sharp black eyes sparkled as she said, “I can vouch for her.”

The front desk girl rapidly changed from loathing to flustered. “Miss Zaré, I—but—”

Smiling cheerfully, Zaré disentangled Rayder from the guard’s grasp and led her to the elevators at the end of the lobby.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to look so different or I would have taken you up myself,” she said, brightly. “Couldn’t stay away from the hair dye, I see.”

Smiling before she could help it, Rayder replied, “What about you? When did you get the new threads?”

The last time Rayder had seen Zaré, Zaré had never had a taste for flashy clothing. Since she’d grown up on a factorial planet, Zaré never owned any brand new clothes. The main pieces in her closet during both girls’ Almorix days were a hand-me-down school hoodie and hole-ridden sweatpants. Not to mention that she’d never dyed her hair before.

Now, Zaré wore a tight fitting, navy leather jacket that consisted of one sleeve of leather that rose to button around her neck. Because the jacket was nothing but a yoke and a sleeve, you could see her navy, fishnet top that showed the white bralette she wore underneath. A pair of black exercise shorts peeked out from under another pair of baggy shorts, and there was one, fingerless glove on her left hand. For footwear, she had long, black thigh-highs, a great contrast to her old, boringly normal style.

“Delphi said I needed a change, so, obviously, she took me shopping.” Zaré grinned.

“‘Delphi?’”

“Oh, right.” Zaré sucked in a breath through her teeth. “We’re, um, dating now,” she said, slowly.

Rayder was stunned into silence. “Exactly how much have I missed?”

“... Just about everything, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last short chapter before a really long one!!! :D


	5. The Whole Squad

The doors to the penthouse suite opened with a flourish and Delphine herself posed, sassily, in the doorway. It seemed as though her style hadn’t changed, however.

She wore an artistically battered, dark green leather top with a diagonal zipper detail on one side, probably straight off some runway. Ripped fishnets were pulled up so the waistband could be seen above a pair of pink-orange-yellow ombré, holographic-fringed booty shorts. Her footwear had been with her since her Almorix days: chunky black platform boots with mismatching, all-over-the-place straps up and down the boot. A reflective pair of triangular, cat-eye glasses only increased the outrageousness of the outfit.

“She  _ finally  _ arrives!” Delphine announced dramatically. She gave Rayder the up-and-down. “And she needs to go shopping immediately!”

With a little grin on her face, Zaré rolled her eyes. “Delphi, Rayder just got here. Give her a break.”

“Fine,” Delphine agreed, carelessly, “but only one hour. Then, we’re hitting the boutiques!”

Delphine turned on her heel, swishing her ponytail behind her in the most attention-grabbing way possible.

Gesturing for Rayder to follow, Zaré entered the penthouse suite behind Delphine.

Rayder was feeling rather… off balanced. To leave for a little more than 400 days and two of her Bffs were dating, the remaining one getting married, and everything about her friends had changed? A pang of nostalgia made her stumble as she hurried into the suite.

“I’d forgotten how clumsy you were,” teased a voice to the left.

A girl was sitting on a couch in an ultra-modern sitting room with a giant TV.

“Averi!” Rayder exclaimed.

Averi smilied (was it just Rayder, or did Averi’s smile seem a bit weak?) and cocked her head to the seat next to her. All three girls made their way to the sitting room, shoes clacking noisily on the marble floor.

Averi had changed her look as well. Her once aqua hair was now green, blue, and purple. While it was still shaved on one side, there were patterns in the shaving, an intricate maze of sharp, geometric shapes. Though her clothing was still as vivid as ever, she had stepped it up a notch; she now exuded a confident air of superiority.

A clear, neon green vinyl jacket with a high collar was layered over a blue and purple halter crop top and skirt set. A pair of high-heeled ankle boots of the same clear, green material as her jacket definitely gave the look more of a high-class air, especially because the heels of her boots were clear and neon green as well. Through the vinyl, you could see Averi’s perfect toenails, painted with sharp, black and white geometric designs.

“Where have  _ you  _ been?” Averi questioned, looking at Rayder’s pants in disgust. “You look like a greenhouse worker. The new hair was an interesting choice.”

Running a hand through her messy but clean hair, Rayder ruefully replied, “I’ve been working in the Namun greenhouse on Xel, saving up for a ship.” Her excuse for being in Namun was weak, and the girls rightfully ignored it.

“You could have gone anywhere,” Delphine started, slowly for once, “and you chose Namun. Why didn’t you go to Parier?”

Parier had been Xel’s second largest city and many of the Omicron inhabitants fled there to continue living their comfortable life. There was no doubt that her friends had assumed she had been living there for the past year.

“And did you block our numbers?” Zaré added. “We couldn’t get ahold of you from your phone. We had to go to the Head of Communications of Xel and it took months to get a response back.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t even have found it if it weren’t for Delphine’s charm,” Averi said.

“Aw, you’re too kind,” Delphine replied, with a smirk. “But, yeah, what happened?”

“I… sold my holophone,” Rayder admitted, relentlessly staring at the glass coffee table in the middle of all the designer couches in order to avoid making eye contact with any of the girls, undoubtedly looking at her in concern. “I sold just about everything I had.”

“Why?” Averi sounded stunned. “Ray, you don’t have to act like it's all your problem. We want to help you, if you’d told us–”

“You could what?” Rayder cut her off, heatedly. “Let me live in your mansions and penthouses and never see the world for what it is? Remember, I’ve been stationed on poorer planets back when I was in the Galactic Army and I’ve seen them and their people. I needed that sort of poverty experience, and I thought that the best time to do it was now.”

The first person Rayder looked up to was Zaré, who had an odd expression on her face.

“... I respect that,” Zaré said, finally. “It’s true that rich people never know what we have to do to survive. I’m actually kind of glad that you did that now, even if you did give us quite a scare.”

Shrugging, Rayder sat back on the couch and glanced at the other two girls.

Averi was the first to talk. “When are you planning to come back? Or are you going to stay in Namun forever?”

Replying to Averi, Rayder said, “I’m not sure yet, but it will be somewhere in the future.”

“Do you enjoy living there?” Delphine asked, incredulously. Her long, pearlescent fingernails clinked on a glass cup as she switched her drink between her hands. When had she even gotten one?

Rayder, however, shrugged. “It's not comfortable, especially with my leg, but at least everyone there minds their own business. How famous are you, now that you have infiltrators coming to your building?”

Delphine threw her head back and hooted. “You haven’t heard much have you?” When Rayder shook her head, Delphine continued. “I’m an up and coming beauty guru and fashion influencer now.”

“And your parents finally agreed?”

“Now that I’m officially done with Almorix, they said yes. Which reminds me; I scheduled a shopping trip on Couture Court for the four of us in about fifteen minutes, so I need to change.”

“Change?” Rayder thought Delphine’s outfit suitable (as suitable as Delphine ever got) for a shopping trip.

Looking at Rayder like she was crazy, Delphine disappeared up a spiral staircase to the top level of the penthouse, which was where her room probably was.

Fifteen minutes later, when Zaré, Averi, and Rayder were finished discussing exactly how many times Delphine changed clothes each day (more than Rayder thought humanly possible), Delphine appeared at the bottom of the staircase, completely different.

Her platinum hair was in a sleek bob, with no trace of the pink and blue streaks that had once been in her ponytail. The sides were angled so that the hair was longer in the front than in the back. A silky, pastel pink crop top with long, flaring sleeves was layered under a black leather harness top that had multiple, criss-crossing waist bands and two suspenders on either side. A pair of black shorts with a subtle shine highlighted her trim, yet toned figure, and her boots were exactly the same as literally every time. They were clunky, not too symmetrical, with a personality of their own. A pair of black, angular shades and plenty of gold rings later and Delphine deemed herself ready. Then, she gave Rayder a once-over and Rayder knew she was in trouble.

“Rayder, we need to get you better dressed. You cannot be seen like that.”

“Why not?” Rayder asked, a little offended.

Raising her eyebrows, Delphine replied, “Even you know that’s not going to fly in Newfangle.”

“But we’ll be late.”

Delphine waved her hand like it was a minor issue. “Important people are always late.”

Reluctantly letting herself be dragged upstairs, Rayder admitted to herself that she’d been hoping for some better clothes when she’d gotten the invitation.

Then, there was no time for thinking as Delphine opened her massive walk-in closet. Colors, textures, and sparkles came at her from every direction. Delphine immediately made a beeline for the left side of the closet and started sifting through clothes.

At long last, Delphine pulled out something Rayder had thought she’d never see again.

“How did you get those?” Rayder gasped, in disbelief.

Smiling smugly, Delphine answered, “Bought a pair just in case you ever showed up again. And I was right.”

Suddenly and irrationally teary, Rayder took the rainbow fishnets from Delphine and hugged her. Delphine enthusiastically hugged Rayder back.

“Wait, wait, wait, my ribs!”

Delphine let go of Rayder, who took in a deep breath and massaged her ribs.

“Put them on,” Delphine urged. “I’ll get you some other stuff. The dressing room is over there.” Delphine pointed to a tiny, curtain-covered room on the edge of the closet.

“Thank you,” Rayder replied as she walked over.

Her happiness at seeing her rainbow fishnets stemmed from way back, when she’d been in the Galactic Army.

When she’d been 18 years old, she'd been a part of the Galactic Army and stationed on one of the targeted planets, Lasiphus, near one of the major factories of that galaxy’s middle class sector. Because it made Galactic Military weapons, it was imperative that the Assimilationists did not capture it.

One calm patrol night, the soldiers and herself had been operating the patrol drones when their connection to the drones had been severed. Even with no way to see outside the facility, Rayder was not worried. She’d trained for this and nothing had been spotted by the various devices that the Lasiphus soldiers had been using to patrol. So naturally, she was not prepared for the huge airships (that had somehow eluded radar, sonar, the patrol drones, and the watchmen) that loomed over the facility, masked by the gloom of night.

The Assimilationists had immediately attacked with their assimilating grenades. With no time to think, all the soldiers grabbed manual drone controls and launched fiery bolts at the defiant Assimilationist drones while other soldiers battled the Assimilationist airships with their own, high in the air. Rayder manned drone after drone, attacking, weaving while all around her, objects were going up in flames, her fellow soldiers were blasted apart, and black fluid splashed harrowingly close to her skin.

She hadn't even noticed the miniscule drops that had burned through her protective boots and made contact with her left ankle until she was on the rescue ships on her way to the main base. Once she caught sight of the little black splash marks on her skin, it was as if time had stopped. All she could think was,  _ It’s over. I’m over. _

Though the Galactic Air Force had been able to fight off the Assimilationists, casualties had been high–and she’d been one of them.

Physical therapy had helped her walk and manage with the PTSD, but her injury had devastated her ability to fight in the Army. Not taking a break, she’d enrolled in the passenger and cargo flight schools to make use of her Almorix scholarship, awarded with pity from the Army officials.

During the passenger flight school, she’d attempted to cover her blackened, assimilized leg with pants, but her cover as an unassimilized person had been nearly blown in the sweltering summers. For a while, she considered amputation—a bionic leg wouldn’t be bad as far as legs went—but, that hungry, ever-growing black patch was her motivation. It’s what made her who she was; she simply couldn’t part with her leg, in a weird, twisted way.

That’s when she’d found a fellow student who had also been assimilized, and she’d learned about  _ DBD _ , a company who made clothing specifically for assimilized people. From then on, she’d worn the skin-colored, skin-textured tights under just about anything.

When she’d learned she could finally wear her beloved rainbow fishnets without showing her assmilized leg, she finally was able to close that chapter of her life and started her Almorix ones with a newfound joy. And now, she had them again.

After donning the fishnets, Delphine handed Rayder a couple of pieces through the curtain: A silver, sequin-covered tank top, a pair of off-the-shoulder, detached, silver sequin sleeves, and a high-waisted leather skirt with two attached garters. After giving Rayder a pair of combat boots in her exact size, Delphine sized up Rayder’s hair.

“What’s wrong with my hair?”

Delphine scrutinized the wigs that dominated one closet. “Sorry Ray. It might have worked last year, but not this year.

Pulling out a wavy, brown-haired one with sunshine yellow highlights that was textured just like Rayder’s hairstyle during Almorix, Delphine plopped it on a mannequin head nearby her elaborate vanity table and pushed Rayder into the chair. Delphine picked up a hairbrush and began straightening out Rayder’s messy locks.

“Do you… even…  _ own _ a… hairbrush?” Delphine strained to brush a knot out while Rayder attempted to answer through the pain.

“Sold… it… OW! That’s why I have short hair.”

“Then it’s not short enough!” replied Delphine, finally tying Rayder’s hair up and arranging the wig on her.

Starting on Rayder’s makeup, Delphine chattered on and on about–

“Wait,  _ what  _ about Averi’s husband?”

Looking guilty, Delphine replied, “Maybe I should let her explain that.”

Giving Rayder a final swipe of lip gloss, Delphine pulled Rayder up from the makeup chair.

“Let’s go shopping now. We can talk in the limo.”


	6. Suffocating

“Averi,” Rayder started as soon as the doors to the limo were closed, “who are you marrying?”

There was a long, buzzing silence before Averi finally spoke.

“You’ll meet him, he’s nice.”

“Mhmm, nice,” Rayder repeated, raising her eyebrows at Averi.

Rolling her eyes, Averi reluctantly added, “Fine, he wasn’t my choice, but I’ll be okay with him.”

“Then why are you  _ marrying _ him?” Rayder looked at Averi in disbelief. This was not the Averi she remembered. Averi, the real one, never let anyone convince her of anything, and she always figured things out for herself instead of being influenced by others.

Looking out the window at the passing blocks, Averi massaged her temples. “Look, my parents were pressuring me to marry this dude. I’m sure he’s pretending to be nice, he’s rich, he’s everything my parents have ever dreamed of as a son-in-law. So I’m going to do it.”

“Averi–”

“Listen, I’m not going to change my mind, so don’t try,” Averi replied, testily. “I think we’re here, anyway.”

In dead silence, all the girls exited the limo and stood, gazing at the first store.

“Come on,” Delphine said, grabbing all the girls and dragging them inside. Despite the formerly somber mood, shopping always seemed to cheer Delphine up. “Remember girls, the goal is to get Rayder some new stuff.”

Clutching at a strap of her bag (still her old denim one, which Delphine deemed an acceptable “vintage designer” look and let Rayder keep it), she followed her friends into a store called  _ Artiste Apparel _ .

The inside was so chokingly designer, it was almost gaudy, and though Rayder should have felt at home in luxury clothes and even her beloved fishnets, she felt strangely naked. In Namun, everyone was too busy to notice what someone else was wearing and nobody cared because it was always the same anyway. Here in Newfangle, wearing revealing clothing for the first time in over a year and constantly feeling eyes on her back, she was not used to the pressing stares that she was getting.

Noticing Rayder’s darting eyes, Zaré grabbed Rayder by the arm and steered her to a calmer side of the shop, where the streetwear was kept. They both plopped down onto a nearby bench and Rayder breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thanks,” she told Zaré.

“You can take a break, but you will have to get up and shop eventually,” Zaré replied with a smile. “You need to get adjusted, because even with those clothes on, you stick out like a rusty nail in a flawless automaton.”

“Is that factory-speak?”

“Less talking, more browsing!” Delphine called, from the other side of a rack of cocktail dresses.

“Fine!” Zaré pulled Rayder off the chair and hauled her to the designer sweatshirt aisle. “Let’s start.”

***

By the time they’d covered the entirety of Couture Court, it was nearly dark out, and lights of every color began to light up the night sky.

Delphine seemed to have an itinerary. “We’re going to fly out to one of my favorite restaurants in Azla and then we’re going to go straight home. I knew Rayder wasn’t going to want to hit up the nightclubs, so we’re going to have a sleepover instead.”

“Thank god.” Zaré grinned. “I have more training classes tomorrow.”

“But tomorrow’s Sunday,” protested Averi.

Zaré shrugged. “That won’t stop me.”

“Wait, what training classes?” Rayder asked, totally lost.

“I’m a trainee at Kondor’s Delivery Company and I’m slowly climbing through the ranks. Because I have combat training, I protect us from rogues.”

“Aw, look at my girlfriend,” Delphine said, putting an arm around Zaré. “Already so important.”

Zaré blushed visibly, despite it being so dark in the limo.

“Hate to break up your little fest over there,” Averi said, “but why are we going back to your apartment if we’re going to Azla?”

Delphine looked at Averi like she had said something absurd. “To change, obviously. The restaurant has a dress code.”

All the other girls groaned.


	7. Reminder

As soon as the girls were safely in Delphine’s spacious bedroom, they all collapsed on Delphine’s king-sized bed.

“I’m going to have nightmares of pink,” Averi muttered.

Rayder yawned. “I didn’t remember flying to be so tiring.”

“You’re tired already?” Averi asked. “It’s only eleven.”

Kicking off her heels, Delphine stood up and began walking to her closet.

“I figured as much,” she said. “Let’s get on with the sleepover then. Rayder, I bought you pyjamas. They’re on the dresser.”

Grabbing them, Rayder noticed something was off. She looked closer.

“How can I sleep in a corset?”

Delphine’s head popped around her closet door. Thankfully, she did not show anything important. “You’ll get used to it, honey.”

“Actually, I got you some pajamas too,” Zaré said, pulling a comfy-looking shirt and long pants out of a shopping bag. Rayder didn’t remember seeing it when the girls were first hauling their bags and boxes into a corner of Delphine’s room.

Apparently, Zaré had been so sneaky, Delphine hadn’t seen it either.

“When did you get those?”

“While you all were in the jewelry store, I just popped up the street to  _ Forever 2125 _ .” Zaré handed them to Rayder and pointed to a door near Delphine’s closet. “Now go change.”

Hastily pulling up her pants and tugging her shirt on, Rayder looked down at Delphine’s white marble floor and drew in a breath. Her right one looked like a foot; neither the skin nor the nails were perfect, but it wasn’t misshapen or swelling or anything bizarre. Her left, on the other hand… blackened flesh and twisted toenails contrasted sharply with the white floor tiles.

It was unsettling, knowing that it was the same as it travelled upward, raggedly ending mid-thigh. She remembered the months after being assimilized, how she’d checked the edges every night after PT, trying to see how fast the infection would spread.

Before she could dwell too long upon her crippled leg, Rayder quickly turned to the door of the bathroom.

“Hey guys… ” she started, apprehensively.

“Yes?” chorused the other three girls.

“Um, are there any socks?”

Delphine smiled. “Looks I remembered something Zaré forgot.”

She threw a pair of pink fuzzy socks at her—which Rayder caught—and then kissed Zaré on the cheek.

Averi, sitting right behind the couple, rolled her eyes at Rayder who laughed as she ducked back into the bathroom.

***

All four girls were laying side by side on Delphine’s floor in a heap of blankets, pillows, and plush stuffed animals that Delphine seemed to have pulled out of thin air.

“Thanks for buying all the stuff for me,” Rayder began, “but I could have paid for it myself.”

“Mhm. I thought you wanted a ship?” Averi replied, mischievously.

Rayder rolled her eyes but grinned all the same. “You know that will never happen.”

“But really,” Zaré said, “what are you going to do when the wedding’s over?”

Rayder sighed. “I don’t know. Go back to Namun?”

“You clearly brought everything you owned,” Delphine interjected. “You could easily just stay here. I can’t even believe you kept your dress.”

“Oh… that.”

Rayder remembered the crumpled, completely torn white mess at the bottom of her backpack. Even she didn’t know why she didn’t sell it.

“Just too many memories,” she said, evasively. “Besides, no one wants a torn up dress anyway.”

“Well,” Delphine continued, brighter, “at least you can still rock a gown once in a while.”

Rayder laughed, partly out of relief. She did not want to go over the prom night events.

“You’re a master at formal wear, that’s for sure.”

“I know,” Delphine acknowledged, breezily. “I’m not a stylist or an influencer for nothing.”

“No, I mean seriously.”

For the outing to the gourmet restaurant in Azla, all four girls had exuded grace in dresses Delphine had selected. Rayder herself had worn a waterfall of silk, with tiny, golden plates embedded in the material, turning it into a gown of armor. For once, it had long sleeves, which gave Rayder a semblance of cover.

Delphine had worn a voluminous, ruffled white gown with a high-low hem and a plunging neckline. With geometric silver jewelry and sleek, white platform heels, she was elegant–but with dangerously sharp eyeliner, triangle bangs in addition to her angular bob, and amber, cat-eye contacts over her piercing blue eyes, she was effortlessly edgy as well. It really was a stroke of genius, to play both sides of the scale in equal measure and still be able to look ready for a royal ball. It was no wonder Almorix had never been able to satisfy Delphine; her true talent was in the fashion world.

Zaré and Averi had also been dressed immaculately, with Zaré in a red, strapless crop top and high waisted red skirt that billowed in every direction and Averi in a simple (for once), aqua dress with a halter neck.

All in all, Rayder had definitely felt a little more at home in her gorgeous dress and surrounded by her friends’ chatter all through dinner. It had definitely taken the edge off the silent stares and badly disguised camera clicks that seemed to follow the group wherever they went.

In present time, Rayder was comfortably cushioned in between Zaré on her right and Averi on her left in the middle of Delphine’s blanket fort.

“I haven’t had an evening like this in a long time,” Rayder said, at last. “I’m glad you were all there with me.”

“It’s just nice to have you back with us.” Zaré grabbed both Delphine’s and Rayder’s hands and Rayder grabbed Averi’s. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

“Why?”

“Don’t tell her,” Averi said, warningly. “She’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Ok… “ Rayder said before changing the subject. “Anyway, Delphine” —Delphine perked up when hearing her name— ”where did you get our dresses from?”

As Rayder had hoped, Delphine went off on a long tangent, saving Averi and herself from discussing whatever was happening the next day.


	8. Confession

When Rayder awoke, she was greeted to sunlight,  _ real _ sunlight. Sure, she’d been in the sun the afternoon before, but morning light simply seemed more magical than the scorchingly bright afternoon sun.

As she approached one of the screen-covered windows, it pixelated out of view on its own and Rayder was able to gaze down at Newfangle City, bathed in the rosy light of dawn. Soft pink and buttery yellow reflected off hovercar windows, and the lakes of nearby parks were a serene shade of salmon.

“Close the blinds,” a hoarse voice moaned from behind her.

Rayder stepped away to see Averi sleepily sitting up. The digital shade immediately pixelated back onto the window, darkening the room once more.

“Sorry,” Rayder whispered. “I forgot you were a light sleeper.”

“I didn’t know you were an early riser now,” Averi teased, grinning.

Guiltily remembering all the times she’d been late to class during the Almorix days (and during pretty much all the other schools she’d been to), Rayder replied, “Guess that’s what being a greenhouse worker makes you do.”

Averi smirked. “Hope it increased your toleration of idiots too. You’re probably going to need it.”

“Wait, what?”

***

Breakfast was a short, cheerful affair, with a whole spread of any breakfast food worth mentioning, galaxy colored waffles, sparkly pancakes, little bowls of cream cheese, butter, and other condiments sculpted into intricate statues of mythical creatures, already set out on the large table in the middle of Delphine’s dining room. Rayder had now gained a healthy respect for Delphine’s penthouse; it constantly seemed to grow in order to fit the girls’ needs.

At exactly 10:00, Delphine concluded breakfast.

“We need to change now. I need an hour to get ready if we’re going to meet–”

“ _ Shhhh _ .” Zaré shushed Delphine, glancing at Averi anxiously.

Averi’s face was uncharacteristically downcast, seeming to bring the easygoing mood in the kitchen down to a grinding halt.

“Right,” Delphine said, herding the other three girls out of the dining room. “Dress up time starts now!”

***

“Why do I have to be dressed like a hooker?” Averi plucked at her top, which was not much more than a lacy, red bra.

“You’re not dressed like a hooker,” Delphine assured smoothly. “You’re showing superiority.”

“Being the object of attention doesn’t mean I’m ‘superior,’” Averi fired back. “I thought the point was to show that I’m  _ not _ trying to get male attention. This defeats the whole purpose. I’m going to go change.”

She stomped off to Delphine’s closet, which apparently also held nearly everyone’s clothing.

“So how come you don’t live at home, Averi?” Rayder asked.

Rayder had already changed into a black, tight-fitting unitard romper and a glowing skirt that made use of the lenticular printing method. When viewed from one direction, it was black with ghostly, white faces; when viewed from another direction, it was a black skirt with geometric, gold designs. While watching the action, she pulled up black, heeled, thigh-high boots and a golden, art-deco inspired necklace, arm cuffs, bracelets, and earrings. She once again was wearing a wig, however, this one was a demure caramel in a casual high bun. It took the edge off the bold designs, making her less scared to wear something so revealing. A bag made of a matching golden art-deco design made of metal—and nothing else—held her new holophone that had arrived only that morning.

Averi’s voice was muffled by the closet door. “My parents are  _ way _ too stuffy to live with. They always try to get into my business, so that’s why I live with Delphine now.”

“Then why are you even meeting this guy, much less marrying him?”

“I–”

There was an abrupt pause before Averi spoke again.

“My parents are…pretty old, you know.” Averi’s voice shook–and it  _ never _ shook. “When Omicron was bombed and I saw you, Rayder, I just couldn’t bear to see you without your parents and know that I could lose mine too.”

“The Assimilationists are gone,” Rayder replied. “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

As much as her heart hurt at the mention of her parents, she found it easier to talk about it now than all the thinking she’d done about it during the previous year.

“I know that the Assimilationists are gone,” Averi replied, “but–”

Averi’s voice broke.

“It’s kind of hard for me to say this.” Averi took a deep breath. “My dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer. You know how fast it spreads. He’s not going to get better and I just want to make him happy for once in his life.”

The room was silent for a while.

“Averi… ” Delphine’s voice was gentle for once. “If he can’t appreciate you for how you are, why should he deserve your happiness?”

Nothing came from inside the closet.

“My parents weren’t happy that I was lesbian, but hey, they came around. Your parents just want their kid to be happy–”

“He doesn’t want me to be happy.” A little aggression was coming back into Averi’s voice. “He wants me to continue being controlled by a man after he dies.”

“And you’re going along with it,” Rayder reminded her.

Again, silence.

Averi finally emerged from the closet, wearing a pair of orange, thigh-slit pants, a strapless, black denim corset top, and opera-length, orange fishnet sleeves. A pair of shades gave her an indifferent air, and with her platform boots, she would tower over everyone and still avoid wearing male-favored heels. A careless looking rainbow leather backpack with silver stars haphazardly attached all over held a few essentials, like her own holophone.

“I’m done,” she announced. “Let’s go.”


	9. The Meeting

Only three girls were dropped off in front of Averi’s parents’ apartment, as Zaré had her training class. It felt a little odd to be without Zaré’s calming presence. Only hot-headed or submissive attitudes remained; not the best when it came to Averi’s politician father.

“Time to meet my ‘fiancé,’” Averi said, with an edge of threat in her voice.

“Wait, you haven’t met him?”

Rayder was a little shocked, but as no one answered her, she took it as a yes.

“I can’t believe you’re marrying someone you haven’t even met yet, Averi. What the hell are you thinking?”

“Nothing at all,” Averi replied, coldly.

“This is gonna go great, then.”

***

Averi’s penthouse apartment gave no indication that Averi had ever lived in it. Everything was luxurious but also uptight, in neutral colors with clean lines.

Seeming to “perfect” the apartment was an aging couple, conservatively dressed exactly to match the furniture and sitting like posed stock-image models on a wide, beige couch.

Averi’s mother, who had Averi’s sharp and unsettlingly bright hazel eyes, gave Averi the once-over.

“You’re going to meet your future husband in that?” she questioned, raising a perfect eyebrow.

“Yes, mother,” Averi replied, just as coolly. “I want him to know  _ exactly  _ who I am.”

“Good,” Averi’s father pronounced, with an attempt at a friendly smile. “Perhaps that will help you to get to know him more. He went to Almorix as well, you know?”

Averi rolled her eyes. “A lot of people have gone to Almorix. It's not like I’ll recognize him. Let me guess, he’s rich.”

Looking taken aback, her father replied, “Well, he does come from a rather wealthy family, but there’s no harm in having that extra financial assurance.”

“ _ See, he does care a little about you _ ,” Rayder whispered to Averi.

“ _ That’s what he wants you to think _ ,” Averi replied.

She led Rayder and Delphine over to another pristine couch and all three girls sat down, a little more primly than they would if they’d been together.

“So,” Delphine began, smoothly speaking in her “high-class” voice, “I hear that you’ve been having some success in the political world.”

“Oh, yes.” Averi’s mother draped her arm over her husband, a move that looked rehearsed. “Well, we’re hoping that Averi’s fiance will carry that on after my husband… retires.”

“ _ Great, another politician _ ,” Averi grumbled in Rayder’s ear.

“That sounds wonderful,” Delphine continued, smiling, though Rayder knew that it was fake. “I can’t wait to meet him, and I'm sure Averi can’t either.”

Averi’s only response was to roll her eyes.

After frowning at her daughter, Averi’s mother smiled at Delphine, a little more genuinely, like an anglerfish about to swallow its prey. “And I’ve heard so much about your recent designs. What inspires you?”

“Well, generally a lot of things.” Delphine sounded flattered to be asked about her work. “I–”

There was a knock on the door.

“I’ll answer it.” Averi’s mom rose, brushing off the bottom of her knee-length cocktail dress.

Averi slumped further into the couch, scowling.

A male voice greeted and then conversed with Averi’s mother, approaching the sitting room and then turning the corner, directly in all the girls’ lines of sight.

At the sight of him, Rayder couldn’t help but be taken aback. She looked left and right at her friends, who had not elicited any reaction at the sight of the boy.

The boy in question smiled at the three girls, albeit awkwardly, and sat down on the chair Averi’s mother gestured to. He was sort of tall, with messy black hair, clear blue eyes, and a generous amount of nervousness. What impressed Rayder the most, and undoubtedly her friends as well, was the jacket he wore: sleek, white, and had the insignia of the Galactic Air Force, as well as the Almorix Academy of Flight symbol. He also wore black pants and a simple white glove on his left hand. This boy didn’t look like a politician to her, but hey, who knew what a politician looked like?

“Hello,” Averi’s father said, considerably warmer than his earlier demeanor. “How have you been doing lately, Adrien?”

“Um, very well, sir,” Adrien replied. He glanced back at the girls, almost nervously, and locked eyes with Rayder for a few seconds. It seemed that Adrien recognized Rayder, just as Rayder had with him.

“How’s your father?” continued Averi’s father, chuckling lightheartedly.

Adrien nodded. “He’s doing well.”

“Been learning much about politics from him?”

“Um, not really.”

Averi’s father looked at Adrien with concern. “You haven’t? Why not?”

“Politics aren’t really my thing.” Adrien once again glanced from the girls back to Averi’s father. “I’m a pilot.”

Averi finally looked up, looking prepared for her father to make an outburst.

Averi’s father went quiet for a minute and Rayder held her breath.

Then, he smiled at Adrien. “Good for you, boy. Averi recently graduated from Almorix as well.”

Adrien’s eyes scanned the girls quizzically. It hit Rayder that Adrien actually didn’t know what Averi looked like, as they’d never met and he probably never looked Averi up on the internet out of nobility.

Delphine, who also realized this at the same time, said, “We’ve all gone to Almorix. Averi”—she tapped Averi on the shoulder, so Adrien would know—”wants to be a pilot too.”

Nodding subtly to Delphine in gratitude, Adrien turned back to Averi’s parents.

“How about Averi and her friends go out to dinner with me and my friends tonight?”

It was clear Adrien didn’t want to be too forward for his and Averi’s first night of acquaintance.

“That sounds lovely.” Adrien’s mother smiled and shot Averi a look that only Adrien missed. It meant,  _ If you screw this up, expect to be disowned _ .

“So, it's settled then,” Delphine told Adrien. “Give me your number and I’ll text you the place and time.”

While the exchange was taking place, Averi glared back at her mom with equal parts defiance and defeat.


	10. Alive

“You know him, Rayder?” Zaré asked, in disbelief. “When did you meet him?”

“It was nothing, I just happened to make eye contact with him on orientation day at Almorix.”

Zaré didn’t look convinced.

“Well, he was a year older than us,” Delphine added, sensibly. “No wonder you never saw him again.”

“Yeah… Anyway,” Rayder swiftly changed the subject, “where are we going for dinner?”

Delphine, always ready to talk about something expensive, answered, “It’s a gourmet sushi restaurant. You can even see the chefs as they make it for you.”

“There better not be a dress code,” Averi told her, sternly.

Delphine pretended to frown. “But I love dress codes.” Then, she returned to seriousness. “This restaurant doesn’t have a dress code, so you all can dress however you like. In all seriousness, I chose this restaurant because it’ll be easy to get to know each other.”

“Thanks,” Averi groaned. “I can’t wait to get to know his politician buddies.”

***

That night, the girls went denim and white.

Zaré, who seemed to favor pilot-like outfits, wore a denim, military-like cropped jacket and a white breton cap with a birdcage veil, angled over her loose hair. Underneath her open jacket was a plain white crop top, and her baggy, white knee-length pants were also completely white, with two rows of denim running down the outsides of the legs. Her white boots were plain but shined to reflection, and her bag was also of shiny white material.

Delphine, on the other hand, wore a high-waisted, denim girdle with dangling straps over a white, scoop-neck crop top with the Marianne Serr sun symbol on the front. She also had a furry pair of thigh-high boots that matched with her purse while her hair was in an edgy tiered ponytail with white, geometric tiles decorating the sides. She had severe, frosty makeup and several clear rings on her fingers.

Averi had dressed herself while still fitting with the theme. She wore a pair of denim pants with thigh cut-outs, where a pair of criss-crossing straps held up the bottom of the leg. A simple, long-sleeved white shirt was layered under a black tank top, and her hair was the same as ever.

Rayder’s outfit consisted of a denim corset with a strapless, sweetheart neckline and visible stitching. To balance the amount of skin showing at the top, Delphine had given Rayder a long, white skirt with a rose gold double-chain belt. Rayder’s hair was once again a wig with baby pink hair up in space buns. She also wore a couple rose gold necklaces and a pair of dangling triangular earrings. A little denim bag held her things.

Now, they were about to pull up to the front of the restaurant.

“Who are those people?”

Averi was referencing the wild mob of people and flickering lights down the street.

“A flash mob?” Zaré suggested.

“Maybe there was a car accident?” Rayder knew her answer was stupid the moment it left her mouth. Accidents were nearly impossible with how much money people paid for hovercars in Newfangle.

“Probably just the paparazzi.” Delphine dismissed both questions with a wave of her hand and took a pair of triangular, cat-eye shades with thin, gold rims out of her purse. “A fashion designer and her friends meeting a politician’s pilot son? That’s going to be tomorrow’s headline.”

Averi shrugged at Zaré and Rayder, who’s confused expressions were identical.

When they stepped out of the limo, they saw that Adrien and two other boys had already arrived and had been waiting for them in front of the restaurant.

With a calmer disposition than what he’d shown in front of Averi’s intimidating parental units, Adrien grinned at them all, said a quick “hello,” and gentlemanly opened the door for the girls. His friends were likewise polite, one blonde and one with greyish-blue dyed hair. Each boy was wearing a mixture of casual and formal wear, and Adrien was still wearing his glove, but it was simply black and fingerless now. It served its purpose: a simple get-to-know you, but with that constant we’re-getting-married-in-two-months reminder.

Once everyone was seated in a large circular booth, girls on the left, boys on the right, Adrien and Averi squashed in the middle, the conversation started.

“So, have you all been to Almorix?” Delphine asked, always the icebreaker.

It turned out that they, too, had been to Almorix. This in turn led to chatting about teachers, and then Rayder’s admittance that she’d dropped out due to the Omicron bombing, which then led to pity, but eventually everyone got distracted by the food arriving and it being delicious.

While everyone dug into their sushi, Zaré asked, “Are you all going to be pilots?”

“‘Going to be?’” The blonde one, Corbyn, grinned. “We’re all in the Galactic Air Force now.”

“Oh, I want to be a combat pilot so bad,” Zaré said.

“We _could_ put in a recommendation.” The grey haired one, Alix, and Corbyn exchanged glances.

“Maybe we could,” Corbyn said, “but I will. You’ll want the best, and Alix sleeps through way too many classes. No one will listen to him.”

“You haven’t slept through Mr. Farson’s class?” Zaré asked, slyly.

“... Maybe.”

Mr. Farson was a teacher at Almorix who also taught Air Force training classes. He was also notoriously boring and never seemed to notice that most of the class was sleeping in front of his very eyes.

They continued talking about Almorix and pilot training, something that Rayder felt strangely uncomfortable talking about, as if her Almorix days had been a millenia ago rather than just a year. It was as if she’d been a different person during Almorix; a Rayder who’d hid her bad leg and bought expensive clothing and laughed like nothing was wrong. So much had changed, herself included, and Almorix simply felt like a bad dream.

Rayder looked left, where Adrien and Averi were talking quietly. Rayder couldn’t hear what they were saying, but from Averi’s body language, she didn’t look as hostile to Adrien anymore, perhaps even becoming a friend against her own will. As she watched, Adrien told a joke or said something funny because he smiled triumphantly and Averi tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress her laugh. Adrien hadn’t really changed at all, still super nice and funny. Only Rayder had changed.

In that moment, the tiny trickles of isolation that had been nagging at her in the back of her brain culminated in a full on force of _I-do-not-belong-here_.

Rayder abruptly stood up, attracting everyone’s attention.

“I’m going to get some air,” she hastily told them, and half ran out the door.

When she stepped outside, darkness had fallen and a light drizzle greeted her. Apparently it had rained while they’d been in the restaurant.

Taking deep breaths of humid night air, she took in her surroundings. Neon signs made bright smears through the haze of precipitation, the faint chatter of people hummed in her ears, and while she was physically present in bustling Newfangle City, Rayder felt disconnected from the scene, as if her insides were hollow. It was a calm feeling; she didn’t particularly dislike it. She simply stood on one side of the sidewalk, watching cars fly past and people in expensive coats hurry along, talking nonsense to each other.

“... haven’t gotten any new jewelry…”

“... My dad will pay for...”

“... you’ll be fine, girls are weak...”

The words began to blend, becoming jumbles of sound interspersed with whizzing from the cars. The neon signs phased into one mass of color before blinking out altogether as she closed her eyes and leaned back into the building behind her. Only the faint peppering of rain drops on her face tethered her to the city around her and kept her from drifting off to… anywhere.

It felt like an eternity before she opened her eyes to an entirely different world.

The first thing she noticed was the sounds, loud, abrasive, and certainly not the mindless chatter of before. After a moment, the sounds formed words.

“... dead! The Assimilationists still live! All hail the Assimilationists!”

People were moving in the streets, masked and angry. Waving signs protruded from the turbulent mass of people in the middle of the street. The people on the sidewalks were no longer ambling, they were running–and they were screaming.

Fear gripped Rayder’s chest like a straitjacket. Shattered memories flashed through her mind of Omicron, Lasiphus, explosions, and hardened eyes above black masks.

Nearby, a young girl was snatched by one of the masked protesters and held aloft, crying hysterically. Her mother and a few police officers with drones sprinted wildy after the girl who was quickly becoming lost in the surging crowd.

More and more officials arrived and soon, tasing lightning was flashing through the crowd, bringing down as many innocents as Assimilationist protesters. Sirens screamed over the shouting of the Assimilationists and the cheerful, multicolored light from the various neon signs were drowned with blinding red and white from the emergency vehicles that seemed to be multiplying by the second.

The door to the restaurant swung open behind Rayder, startling her badly, but was reassured when her friends emerged from the restaurant.

Upon spotting Rayder, both her friends and Adrien’s looked relieved and immediately ran over.

Averi was the first to put an arm around Rayder’s shaking shoulders and guide her back inside.

“We heard the commotion and came out to find you,” Delphine said, her expression uncharacteristically strained.

“It’s fin-” Rayder tried to say, but she was cut off.

“You did _not_ look fine,” Zaré said. “You looked like those squirrels back on Magnetrona”—Zaré’s home planet—”right before my brothers killed them for dinner.”

Averi, who was definitely a lot more somber than her usual self, shot Zaré a look. “Not helping.”

“No, I needed that,” Rayder said, pulling away from her friends. “I left Almorix so I wouldn’t be fussed over, and really, I’m fine.”

Her protest was met with six shocked stares. Rayder didn’t blame her friends for being so shocked. After all, Rayder hadn’t really talked all evening.

Adrien broke the silence. “Why don’t I take you guys home in our limo? That way we only need one flashy car to get through the crowd.”

“Sounds great Adrien.”

That, surprisingly, had been Averi. All the girls turned to her. Averi shrugged and turned back to Adrien.

“We’ll go.”

***

 _Of course_ , Rayder thought on the nearly silent car ride to Delphine’s apartment. The front of the restaurant’s street had been littered with so many bodies, Adrien’s limo had had to pick them up on another street. They’d had to cross police tape and walk past sobbing people. _Of course the Assimilationists are still alive and of course they have to protest in Newfangle City_ . _Just when you thought it would be safe to have a fun summer with your friends and not worry about your stupid past, of course._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never trust the tenth chapter haha :)


	11. Self-Confidence?

The morning after the Assimilationist protests, the air was charged with unspoken tension until Zaré got around to it.

“Exactly what were  _ you _ two talking about?” she asked Averi, who blushed and then immediately regretted it.

“Nothing… ”

No one was convinced.

While Rayder smirked quietly, Delphine put an arm around Zaré and continued to berate Averi.

“You talked about  _ something _ that’s for sure. Just tell us something.”

If Averi had been in a TV show, she would have stared into the camera with blatant panic on her face.

“We talked about being pilots, okay?” Averi shut her mouth and set her jaw.

“Aw, come on Averi,” Delphine implored. “Tell us more.”

Averi did not say a word despite Delphine’s continued pleading.

Finally, it was Rayder’s turn to get Averi to spill. “Please Averi.  _ Tell us _ .” She playfully batted her eyelashes and put on a mournful expression.

For some inexplicable reason, Averi confessed.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I don’t hate him. Well, I kind of know. His dad’s pressuring him to be a politician too, you know? Politician parent problems. We were sort of just talking about that a lot.”

“So are you BFFs now?” Delphine asked, slyly.

“Just friends for now,” Averi answered, firmly. “I don’t know if I could ever learn to love him, but I’m not making any commitments. He’s a good enough person, maybe a little too good, but I’m not sure he’s my type.”

“What is your type?” Zaré questioned.

Shrugging, Averi replied, “I don’t know, but I do know that it's not him.”

“You have to  _ marry _ him,” reminded Rayder. “Exactly how do you plan on doing that?”

Averi was quiet for a few moments. “I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it, I guess. What are we doing today, anyway?”

“Well, I have a meeting and then a photoshoot and Zaré has her training, so I guess it's up to you two.” Delphine shrugged and turned to leave before adding, “Also, I may have scheduled a date for you, Averi, with Adrien this evening.”

Averi blanched. “What?!”

***

“ _ Exactly why are we doing this? _ ” Averi asked, through clenched teeth.

The girls were in Delphine’s limo on the way to the restaurant that Delphine had booked a reservation for.

“Hmmm, maybe because you need to  _ know _ the person you’re marrying?” Rayder replied, with a smirk.

Averi groaned. “Why did I agree to this?”

“Um, you don’t have to do it,” Zaré pointed out. “You can still change your mind.”

Averi didn’t say anything.

“Face it.” Delphine swished her long, loose platinum hair. “Averi’s not going to change her mind, so she better know Adrien  _ super _ well.”

“Well, don’t schedule any more dates for me,” Averi snapped. “I can do it myself.”

Everyone was used to Averi’s aggressiveness when she was stressed, so no one was surprised.

“Fine, Averi,” Delphine replied, breezily. “We’ll let you do it yourself.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Averi slumped down into her seat. “This date is going to be a nightmare.”

Oh, it was... 

***

With Averi away on her date, Delphine had no opposition to her choice of dinner: another dress coded restaurant.

Needless to say, Rayder expected another gown or something totally formal, but no. Delphine fished some seemingly random pieces of clothing, cobbled them into three incoherent outfits and expected Zaré and Rayder to be perfectly okay with it.

“Delphine, what kind of restaurant are we going to?” Rayder asked, cautiously.

“Yes,” Zaré agreed. “I’m thoroughly confused.”

Delphine rolled her eyes. “It’s a 2020s themed restaurant, okay? Just do it for the artistry?”

“Artistry? These clothes are  _ ancient _ !” Zaré exclaimed, picking up a pair of Fendi-emblazoned shorts. “Just look at all this Fendi! That should’ve stayed in the 2020s.”

“Guys,” Delphine said, completely fed up with all the complaining, “just wear it okay? Remember who the fashion expert is here.”

So, they grudgingly put on the outfits Delphine had chosen.

For Zaré, Delphine had chosen an ancient Louis Vuitton… outfit, if you could really call it that. A cropped black sweater with a garish, psychedelic galaxy print and a ruffled collar and cuffs was paired with a pair of red and black pants. If the pants had been colored any other way, it would have looked less insulting. A color block of plain black from the waist to the hips gave the impression that Zaré was wearing a black shirt under the above-described sweater and low-cut, cropped red pants with brash white markings. Exactly how was that supposed to look “high fashion?” Worst of all, the chunky white belt that she wore simply did not complete the look in any way. In fact, it left the onlooker with a lot of questions. Such as, were the outdated, ugly, black Balenciaga sneakers really needed? And did the bag have to be brown and painted with a flower? Galaxy and floral and color blocks?

The next most fashion-faux-pas? Rayder had to wear Fendi: a pagoda shouldered, logo-covered crop top and bike shorts set with matching gloves. There was no way this was going to pass unnoticed. From the side, the pagoda shoulders with their awkward bulk made her look like she had a chronic hunchback. Her hair was another brown wig in a high ponytail and her makeup was so… outdated. With the extremely long eyelashes and dark makeup, she hoped no one would think she actually had two black eyes.

Delphine was unconcerned with all the outfits she’d chosen, including hers: a gold and white, empire-waisted dress with  _ the  _ most offensive and giant green, white, and gold bow on a sash at the waist. Her makeup was also 2020s esque, and when she put her hair in a high bun, it just made the bow look more massive and atrocious. The stripper heels with clear straps didn’t help... at all.

“Delphi,” Zaré asked, hesitantly, “did you lose your touch?”

Delphine looked at Zaré like she was crazy. “Of course not. Besides, we  _ want _ attention.”

“We do?” Rayder asked.

“We need to get you out of your shell, and this is the perfect way to do it.”

It did not feel like “the perfect way.” Delphine seemed to have tipped off the paparazzi, who likely shot hundreds of embarrassing photos in the time it took to get from the front door of the hotel to Delphine’s limo. It did not help Rayder’s self confidence  _ at all _ .

***

The road to the sushi restaurant—which was now permanently ingrained in each of the girls’ memories—was open again, striking a forbidding chord within Rayder.

“Are you feeling okay?” Zaré asked.

Rayder immediately realized that she was breathing weirdly. She stopped.

“I’m fine.” Rayder’s assurance did not calm either of the girls.

“I hope they don’t try anything tonight,” Delphine said, looking up from where she was scrolling through [social media] on her holophone. “If they ruin our evening or Averi’s evening, I will personally hunt them down.”

“Can you even fly, Delphine?” Rayder wasn’t sure; she hadn’t thought to ask before.

“Of course I can fly, Rayder. I just prefer to hire someone to fly me places. Piloting is terribly pressuring.”

“Sure...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly still being edited. I kinda actually finished it today. Other than that, thank you Hautelemode on youtube (check him out, he's savage), the fashion roasting was exactly what I needed for this chapter. Each of the outfits Zaré, Rayder, and Delphine wear are actual outfits celebs have worn this year, and yes, I chose the most horrible outfits.


	12. Glass and Steel

“... and that’s when I knew the director was absolutely cuckoo,” Delphine finished, picking at her dish. She had talked for so long it was nearly cold.

“Mhmm,” Rayder murmured, noncommittally. Her plate was empty.

Zaré, the only one who could stand to watch the holo-TVs mounted on the walls, grabbed both girls’ arms. The screens were blasting a news channel, which had been monotonously reporting traffic five minutes ago. With her eyes fixed on the TV nearest them, Zaré tremulously ventured, “Guys...”

Delphine and Rayder whipped around in unison.

Pictured on the screen was a Newfangle City street, filled with flashing lights, police officers, drones, and dark, shadowy people in masks, hurling small, grenade-like objects at the officers and civilians. A few more obscure protesters leaped out of a building’s smashed windows to join the fray. Within the restaurant, the drone of idle chat died out as all the restaurant goers noticed the TV, and urgent muttering filled the air.

“Look at that sign,” Zaré murmured. “That’s the restaurant Averi and Adrien went to.”

Just then, the screen cut to a video of a handful of ambulances, staggering people being supported by medics, and stretchers with indiscernible bodies within the sheets.

To make the blow worse, the news reporter announced, “The Assimilationist protesters seem to have revived use of the weapon that was key to their advances six years ago. Tonight, the protesters launched small grenades filled with watered-down assimilation solution into the crowds on the Road of Stars. There have been three deaths and 38 injuries from either the fluid or the casing. The conditions of the assimilized are undetermined.”

The girls exchanged a glance before dashing outside; Delphine hurriedly dialed both Adrien and Averi’s numbers. The streets were bare, save for a few people frenziedly trying to find shelter.

“None of them are picking up,” Delphine worriedly relayed. “Maybe they turned off their phones?”

Frowning, Zaré replied, “Averi would never do that.”

“We should go on foot; it’ll be faster,” Rayder said, willing to risk her inevitable leg pain.

“We can wait for the limo,” argued Delphine. “The damage is done. It won’t matter how fast we get there–”

“Delphi, Averi and Adrien are in trouble.” Zaré looked uncharacteristically fierce, irrationally sparking a low hum of fear within Rayder. “We have to get to them  _ now _ . Let’s go by foot; I know a few shortcuts.”

***

How Delphine managed to keep up in her heels was beyond Rayer, but because of the many alleys and side roads Zaré ducked through, they managed to find the Road of Stars relatively easily.

Still filled with police, crawling with protesters, and blocked off with rails, drones, and tape, the ruckus was hard to ignore.

When Zaré made an attempt to cross the barrier, Rayder stopped her.

“I don’t think we should go in there.”

“We should not,” Delphine seconded. “Why don’t we just ask someone where Averi is?”

Zaré’s eyes blazed. “Do you think people will know where she is? Or have enough time to even talk to us? If we want to find her, we need to go in now!”

Turning on her heel, she boldly jumped the barricade and entered mass hysteria. Delphine and Rayder, who were stunned by Zaré’s uncharacteristic outburst, reluctantly followed.

As soon as they caught up with Zaré, she went down to business.

“We need to find those ambulances; there’s a chance they haven’t left yet.”

“I doubt it, Zar,” Delphine replied, looking around dubiously.

The streets were choked with scuffles between police and protesters. Taser lightning buzzed through the crowds, ineffectively taking down as many officers and protesters. Shouting came from all different directions and as the girls watched, a tangle of protesters and police officers near them knocked over a barricade in the fight. Everyone hurried to the edge of the sidewalk, where it was relatively calm.

“I  _ really  _ don’t think this is a good idea,” Rayder said, under her breath.

“Just come on,” Zaré snapped, striding along the sidewalk, littered with shattered glass. So far, it was clear of police and protesters, but Rayder still worried.

She followed Zaré anyway.

Though Zaré and Rayder both wore sneakers, Delphine’s platform heels precariously wobbled on the copious collections of glass shards.

“My shoes were not meant for this,” groaned Delphine.

“Then take them off.”

Delphine paused to stare at her girlfriend, who didn’t look back once.

“You better not have meant that,” she huffed.

“Whatever.”

As the three girls passed a formerly gourmet restaurant with its picture window panes smashed across the sidewalk, a movement from within caught Rayder’s eye.

Rayder turned just in time to see a figure, clothed in black, spring out of the darkness. They locked eyes in midair, Rayder’s grey and the protester’s cold blue.

She was paralyzed with...  _ fear _ . There was nothing she could do except watch as the Assimilationist protester reached for her.


	13. Traitors

Just as the protester’s hands were about to lock on to Rayder’s arm, a Balenciaga sneaker shot between the protester and Rayder.

Zaré’s foot and the protester’s face collided, sending the protester sprawling.

When the protester started to stand up, Delphine shouted, “Run!”

The three girls took off down the street, heading for the nearest poli–

“Ow!”

Delphine, who’d finally tripped over her heels, sat, clutching her ankle in pain.

Their pursuer grew ever closer.

“Just leave me,” Delphine said through gritted teeth.

Instead, Zaré stepped in front of Delphine to face the protester.

“Rayder, run. Run and don’t stop.”

“Zaré, I’m no–”

“Just go!”

Zaré’s uncharacteristically harsh order somehow pushed Rayder to obey, running for the nearest idle police officer. She guiltily glanced back at her two friends, one of whom was injured and the other who was arranging herself into a fighting position. The protester, however, was single-mindedly closing in.

_ Why is that person following me _ ? Rayder thought, in vain.

The protester was ten feet away... six feet away... 24 inches.

Zaré struck, throwing a punch as fast as lightning and as sure as a tiger. As her fist swung towards the protester’s jaw, Rayder was sure they were going to connect—

But the protester nimbly dodged Zaré, startling her, and set a track for Rayder.

Rayder’s eyes widened as the protester’s eyes narrowed, and both put on a burst of speed.

Now Rayder was racing to get to someone, anyone at all, but she realized the only police officer not engaged in combat was only 25 yards away and already staring at her.

“Help!”

Rayder’s desperate plead did nothing to make the officer move.

“Please!”

He blinked and smiled like,  _ What can I do _ ?

Rayder swore under her breath. Suddenly—and refreshingly—she was angry.

Deliberately slowing down and veering suddenly to the left, directly into the fray, she ducked past a few lightning bolts, a couple people, and hid as best she could behind a couple officers and protesters locked in a fight.

Through the sea of arms and legs, she could just see her pursuer aiming for the gap Rayder had dashed through. If she timed this correctly—

_ BAM _ ! For the second time, the protester skidded across the ground as Rayder pulled her leg back from her effective trip.

From the proximity, Rayder could tell this protester was female, and  _ her _ black bodysuit was scraped, showing contrastingly white skin, marred with fresh red.

The protester didn’t get up, so Rayder cautiously edged towards her, suspecting she was down.

As she bent down, the protester’s eyes flew open, and an impact to Rayder’s chest propelled her into the air and hard onto her back. She knew that tomorrow, her backside was going to be black and blue. If she made it to tomorrow.

“What do you want?” growled Rayder, struggling to her feet as the other girl slowly walked towards her. It was almost a scene out of a movie.

The girl didn’t answer.

_ If she’s not going to give me answers, I’ll give her mine _ .

Rayder attempted to send a couple punches in her direction, but the girl dodged them with ease. Rayder hadn’t trained in over a year and could tell she was rusty.

Her last punch was caught by the girl, who roughly grabbed Rayder’s shoulders and pushed her down. Pulling out a remote, the girl clicked a button, and a police drone flew over to them.

For a split second, Rayder sighed with relief, but then noticed that the girl did not seem worried at all. As the drone neared, the girl reached up and grabbed it out of the air.

“You idiots,” she hissed at Rayder. Her eyes divulged the smirk hidden by her mask.

Pressing a button on the drone, two small, handcuff-like rings descended from a small hatch on the bottom of it, which the protester fastened on both of Rayder’s limp hands. Even the weak blows Rayder attempted didn’t faze the girl from her task.

With another click of a button, the drone lifted skyward, pulling Rayder up with it. Just when Rayder thought the drone wouldn’t be able to lift her whole body up into the air, her sneakers left the ground.

“Help!”

She couldn’t help the scream that escaped as the street sank lower and lower.

Just when all hope was gone, a movement behind the girl, gazing up at Rayder’s departing figure, knocked the protester down.

Rising with vengeance, the unknown girl turned to face Zaré. Within seconds, they were locked in a head-to-head spar, and Rayder was rising farther up every second. With a look of panic that Rayder deeply felt within herself, Zaré could only watch as Rayder rose out of her reach.

Completely airborne now, Rayder glanced up at the dark sky, gloomily clouded, and wondered if she would ever stop, or if she was going to be doomed to explode at the edge of the Newfangle atmosphere.

Her altitude surpassed the tallest skyscraper in Newfangle and the air seemed a little thin when she finally broke the first cloud layer. That’s when she realized where she was going.


	14. Lightning

Innocent, twinkling starlight sparkled brightly off the hulls of three, menacingly large airships. For someone who hadn’t had training in the Air Force at all, panic would have immediately set in at the large, forbidding beacons of darkness. Rayder, however, could see the unsightly gouges and gashes that marred the otherwise sleek chrome of the ships.

Before she could draw any conclusions, her drone jerked to a halt before rushing abruptly towards the ships. Clearly, they had been pre-programmed to do so.

“AHHHHHH!”

Just before she crashed into the side of the ship, the drone stopped, leaving her scream to echo across the empty sky. She felt a little silly, even if she was alone–for the moment.

A panel of the ship opened soundlessly, letting a warm beam of yellow light out into the dark. Sinister silhouettes contrasted sharply with the light upon the now horizontal panel, and the clomping of two or three pairs of shoes filled the tranquil silence.

The shadows got smaller and smaller upon the panel until two dark uniformed men emerged from the doorway. Upon the sight of her, hanging timidly in the darkness, the dark-headed one scowled.

“Another one,” he muttered, distastefully. “Wonder why it's taking so long.”

The other one—a redhead—shrugged, but didn’t say anything.

Reaching out to grab Rayder, all he received was a sneaker to the face and a curse.

“She shouldn’t be up here, Lieutenant,” the redhead said, rubbing dirt off his face. “Should we send her back down?”

“Nah. She knows too much. Let’s just take her and get out of here.”

Using a remote similar to her attacker, he pressed a combination of numbers and she felt her drone vibrate. A split-second later, a shock of blinding pain and a flash of light behind her eyelids made her entire body spasm before all light was extinguished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter's so short, I had a ton of work this week. Next week's will be longer.


	15. Fear

Her body ached. Her entire being ached.

Rayder groaned and curled into fetal position. Just that movement sent wracking pains through her body, particularly her left leg.

Her cheek rested on the cold, hard floor, while her arm and side tried to linger on the warm, heated spot that she’d been laying on since blacking out.  _ Since blacking out _ .

She opened her eyes and saw a long stretch of metal, terminated by a panel of metal perpendicular to the floor.  _ No, a wall _ . A metal room.

“Are you awake?”

Rayder turned quickly and sucked in a breath from the pain.

A girl, perhaps 11 or 12, stared down at her with clear, blue eyes.

“So you are awake. Good. We took your wig off.”

_ My wig _ –

The girl held up a length of dark hair, none too neat.

“It was already falling off. You look more normal now, with the rooting and all. Your wig is very fancy.”

So her bangs were once again out in the open. Reaching up to feel them, Rayder was surprised at the length and knew at once that her roots were most definitely showing. Not that it mattered.

“Are we on the ship?” Rayder asked, hoarsely.

The girl nodded. “Yeah. I’m Emi, by the way.”

“Rayder.”

“Cool name.” Emi raised her voice a little, shouting to the rest of the room behind Rayder. “Her name is Rayder.”

Rayder took a deep breath, braced herself for pain, and stiffly lifted herself off the floor. Emi had not been yelling at nothing; there were twenty or so other people scattered all across the floor, looking just as disheveled as Rayder felt. They all nodded, swiftly murmuring greetings across the room and Rayder realized why the air seemed so electrified.

Fear.

It rolled off their shoulders in waves, drowning the entire room in stifling anxiety. Their eyes were full of it, darting around in unease and pure fright. Even in the Galactic Army, panic to this magnitude was unparalleled.

Rayder tried to wave, but her arms were sore and her wrists were scratched from hanging on to a drone and trying to fight gravity. She couldn’t move positions because both of her legs throbbed with pain. Her lower back and tailbone felt like they had been crushed flat by an industrial sized tank.

“Did you know that your back is covered in bruises?”

“I know, Emi, I know,” Rayder replied, wincing and lowering herself back to the ground, content with simply laying there until she truly died of pain.

“What happened? How come you have so many injuries? Also, how come you have skin tights?”

“What?!”

From her place on the floor, she glanced at her left leg and, sure enough, her tights were ripped, exposing patches of dark, twisted flesh.

“Um-”

Emi cut her off, staring at something behind her. “I have to go, okay?”

And she was gone, hurrying off to one side of the room, where a rickety, spiral staircase rose from the smooth metal floor to a door that would have been on a second floor had there been a ceiling between the levels. In front of the door stood another black-clothed guard who was beckoning to Emi.

The cavernous space, especially with the metal walls, floor, and small stairwell reminded Rayder of her training. They were in the hold, and it was smaller than Rayder had first thought.

She suddenly felt the need to escape, which she wished had kicked in earlier. Blinded by pain, she hadn’t even given a thought about her friends who could have also been captured–or Averi and Adrien, who they’d set out looking for in the first place.

Feeling a little less debilitated by her bruises and soreness, she managed to crawl a little way closer to the main congregation of people. A woman who still managed to make rumpled clothing look elegant imperiously stared at her, as if—even captured—Rayder was beneath her. Rayder felt a little frustrated, but now that it was no longer her biggest issue, she did not fear the gaze of the belittling.

She had to get off this ship at once.


	16. Caught

A few days passed; Rayder wasn’t sure how many, but by calculating the times that the hostages’ meals arrived, it had probably been about two or three days on the ship. Emi had already informed her that Rayder had slept for a day and a half before finally waking up. The little girl had also seemed slightly scared but curious whenever Rayder brought up escape, so she’d postponed the conversation until she was sure Emi could handle it.

“Do you think there are any weaknesses in this ship, Emi?” Rayder finally asked.

“No, I don’t think there are any weaknesses,” Emi said, frowning. “How would we even find any? I don’t think we should know.”

“Why did that guard signal to you and where did you go?” Rayder asked, ignoring Emi’s last line. “We should start there.”

“Ummmm, I got in trouble before.” Emi’s little face screwed up in concentration. “There are lots of guards on the other side of the door, and lots of cameras. I wouldn’t go out there if I were you. They took me to this office and there was this mean-looking guy who told me that”—her bottom lip quivered and she looked around the room once before continuing—”he told me that if I misbehaved again, I was gonna get thrown off the ship.”

Rayder was surprised but also not surprised. “Okay, were there any windows? Um... do you happen to know the model of the airship?”

Emi shook her head.

“Okay, maybe–”

A loud crash boomed through the ship, accompanied by a heart-shattering jolt. Dozens of yelps and screams rang off the metal walls of the hold. The guard at the door, the only one who’d been standing, stumbled.

“What was that?” Emi whispered in fright.

Rayder’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know,” she said, slowly, “but I think now is the best time to act.”

“What!?” Emi paled. “No! Not now! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

Rayder turned to look at Emi.

“I don’t wanna get killed!” Emi shouted, as more explosions rocked the ship. Rolling into a tight ball, Emi covered her head.

Rayder tried to yank her up, but the little girl refused to even look. “We need to get off the ship _ now _ !” she bellowed.

When Emi continued to protest, Rayder scooped her up and ran for the stairs. The guard, obviously seeing this, ran down to stop them. He was clearly not trained for combat, as Rayder’s single kick in the crotch sent him to the floor, howling in pain.  _ Seriously _ ? Rayder thought.  _ The Assimilationists really lowered the standard for soldiers. _

It was a good thing, because Emi was squirming and Rayder’s calves strained to make it up the stairs.

She kicked the door open and immediately was on guard.

But, there was nothing to be on guard from.

Unless there were hidden cameras, there was no security in sight, simply a long, filthy hallway that led off to the right and left, dimly lit with electric lights. The left one ended sharply in a bend backwards so that anything coming from that direction would be shielded from Rayder’s sight. The right one bent forwards, so there would be the same vision problem.

“ _ Where were the cameras, Emi _ ?” Rayder hissed.

Emi stopped squirming.

“HELP!” she yelled. “HELP! HELP!”

Rayder tried shushing her. “ _ You’re going to get us caught _ .”

Emi paused for a moment, her expression hardening, and she calmly and coldly stared at Rayder with her laser blue eyes. “I know.”


	17. Tricked

Running footsteps pounded from both hallways.

Rayder looked at Emi in desperation, but to no avail.

Emi’s eyes stared defiantly at Rayder, so different from those frantic, fearful ones only moments before. She’d been a good actress, but now the playtime was over.

“No one’s coming to your rescue,” she spat. “Especially not me.”

Rayder felt a surge of anger and she opened her mouth to shout, to yell at this girl who looked so much more harmless than she was.

Emi grinned. “Come on, yell at me. Insult me. I can take it.”

Rayder itched to throw Emi to the floor, but before she could decide whether to follow that instinct, three guards from either direction burst into the hall, crowding the small space. She defensively put her fists up, not going to go down without a fight.

Then, out of seemingly nowhere, a voice—clear as a bell and twice as charming—spoke.

“You’ve done well, sister. Exactly as I instructed. We’ve managed to lose the ships tailing us, so there should be nothing left to stop us.”

A shining, blonde head of hair wove from behind the guards on the left. Those piercing blue eyes with their steel gaze–Rayder knew them, and her own eyes widened in fear.

“Recognize me?” asked the protester, smirking widely.

***

“Where are my friends?” Rayder demanded as the guards roughly yanked her down the right hallway.

“Better off now,” the girl said. She hadn’t glanced back at Rayder even once as they’d filed down the narrow hallway, but Rayder could tell she was smirking. Her voice practically reeked of it. “They fought bravely, but it couldn’t help them, in the end.”

Rayder glared at the muddy green carpeting and cursed internally; something uncharacteristic but necessary. She hadn’t felt this angry in over a year.

The group arrived at a plain metal door, unmarked and rusted.

“Welcome to the jailer’s office,” the girl said, putting her palm to a hand scanner on the right of the door. Part of it was cracked and flickering, but the door opened, nevertheless. “Ah, she’s just arrived.”

The girl gestured to a small, sparse room. It's only occupants were a heavy, metal desk, a wheelie chair, and three filing cabinets.

“Where is she?” Rayder asked, suspiciously. This was an old trick in the book, predictable as hell.

The girl sat down at the desk with an evil glint in her eye. “ _ I’m _ the jailer. I’m also the commander, general, Principal, and sometimes, Drillmaster.”

“That would be more impressive if I didn’t know that your forces are so depleted, you don’t have enough officials to fill all those roles.”

The girl’s expression snapped shut.

“That’s what we want you to think.”

“Then why’d you just tell me that?” Rayder raised her eyebrows triumphantly. “Why didn’t you want me to continue thinking that you were weak? Did your pride get the better of you? Imagine if I were a spy. You’re dead as soon as I contact my extraction team.”

The girl was silent for a few moments, then motioned to her guards.

“As it turns out,” she said, anger bleeding into her voice, “we need the executioner, not the jailer. Whoops, my mistake.”

“Yeah,  _ your _ mistake.”

Rayder was led out to her death, but she couldn’t help smirking at the girl, who seethed under a cracked mask of calm. Rayder couldn’t help scoffing. This girl, who couldn’t even properly hide her emotions or conceal secrets from her enemy, thought she could be a leader. A sad end to the Assimilationists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I have consistently uploaded at least 1 chapter every Friday, I think it would only be fair to continue with the chapter release schedule. I will try my hardest but I cannot completely promise it (though this is nearly a promise aha). Hope to see u next Friday! :D


	18. An Illusion

As it turned out, Rayder had a choice.

“Either we shoot you until you’re dead or you jump off the ledge yourself,” snarled a black-clothed soldier, standing only about a foot away from Rayder–a mistake. “You have five seconds before we choose for you. 5.”

Rayder shifted a little, fighting the wind to remain on the ship’s balcony. The hard, metal railing of the ship’s balcony dug into her back.

“4.”

Both soldier’s readied their weapons.

“3.”

The more obvious choice was the gun; quick, blunt, and brutal. Jumping, however, would be the more noble choice. Instead of the enemy claiming her life, she would claim her own.

“2.”

However, there was another option–a hidden option.

“I choose the third option,” Rayder said, baffling the two Assimilationists.

With that small distraction, Rayder sprung.

As she’d predicted, the two soldiers were either untrained or poorly trained because yanking the two guns out of their hands was laughably easy. Rayder even smiled as she trained them on her opponents. Oh, if this was the standard of the new Assimilationists, she had no need to be scared.

She pulled both triggers and fired.

“Try to move and your ears won’t be the only things blown off your body.”

She had only meant to nick their ears, not shoot them off entirely; her aim was seriously out of shape.

“I’m going to take three steps forward and you are not going to move because, as you can tell, my aim is impeccable on  _ both _ sides and I’d rather not have to kill you.”

One step. The blatant fear in their eyes was unmistakable.

Another step. Her own eyes never wavered from theirs.

The third step.

She flipped both guns around (nearly dropping the left because her hands were so slick with sweat) and slammed the butts of both guns into the soldiers’ heads. They dropped like the sacks of dirt back in the Namun greenhouse.

No alarms sounded. No guards rushed at her. Nothing. Just the steady hum of the ship beneath her feet, as well as the other two ships trailing their leader and the rushing of air past her face. Bits of blue hair fluttered in her peripheral vision. She was free, but still trapped.

Rayder hesitantly looked down at the planet the Assimilationists had chosen to kill her on. Large, looming spires of bare, grey rock stood silently under the sun, battered and eroded by the constant wind. There was no chance she would survive the fall.

Anxiety tied her stomach into a knot. She’d just escaped death; there was no way, through all her cowardice and inability to help her friends, that she was going to surrender herself to death. She would never forgive herself for abandoning her friends that way, avoid atoning for all her mistakes.

Tossing one gun over the side of the ship, she quietly slunk to the door that had brought her up here. The door creaked, but there were no guards in the stairwell to hear it.

She crept down the stairs and back through the hallway to the girl’s office. After barely passing the door, she tripped, but there were no cameras to catch her movement. She passed the door to the hold and saw the shadow of the guard’s back through the frosted glass. He did not turn or even shift.

A well lit stairwell, exactly where she’d expected, led down to a cavernous holding bay, half full of docked emergency ships. Perfect.

She crept across the space, darting from ship to ship as she scanned the room for anything that could blow her cover. Cameras, guards, even drones, but there was nothing. She carefully opened the door of one, far across from the stairwell and any pursuers, the gun she was still holding pointed outward.

No alarms went off as she shut the door, buckled herself in, and turned the engine on. The gas gauge was full, the electricity meter at the max. The hatch opened beneath her with no difficulty, and no guards rushed at her from the outside. She even checked the underside camera for anyone clinging to the bottom of the ship. All was clear.

Now, all she had to do was pass the two ships behind her.

Lowering her ship down the hatch and into the atmosphere of the planet she was currently on, she realized how much she missed flying. Sure, she’d enrolled in Almorix just to keep her dream alive, but still, flying had been a great joy to her hobbled person.

She had no time to dwell on memories, however.

She’d been unable to avoid detection from the other two ships. Three smaller aircrafts from each ship had lowered themselves as well and were preparing to charge.

Clicking a few buttons, unlocking the two forefront guns, and setting them to lasers (her favorite), she made the first move.

Streaking towards the enemy ships with the lasers on auto, her instincts flicked on. Blasts of flame exploded from the enemy’s primed guns, but she wrenched the yoke back and forth and evaded the first wave.

So many targets she had, and so little surface area the Assimilationists could hit.

She did a 180 spin to pass all six—no, four; her lasers had successfully cleaved off a wing and razed a windshield to black.

“Favorable.”

She couldn’t help saying it. Averi had always delighted in saying it during training when she’d co-piloted with Rayder; it was catchy.

Equipping her rear guns, she led them in a wild chase, dodging, weaving, turning through the planet’s rock spires. When they’d all fallen to her lasers, she geared up her take-off boosters.

Pulling the yoke back, back, back, she braced herself for pressure before blasting off into space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I wouldn't post? Well, I did XD


	19. The Message

She watched Rayder go from the back window. What an arrogant fool. Nevertheless, she was a perfect messenger: motivated, unobservant, and decisive. The message would be clear, and the world would soon be free.


	20. The Return 2.0

Rayder couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alive as she raced across the galaxy. She did a small loop-de-loop, purely for the pleasure of flying again.

As she neared Newfangle, however, the excitement turned to nerves. She’d only been gone for nearly four days, and in that week, anything could have happened. Her friends could have been captured or injured or–

Instead of finishing that thought, she put on a new burst of speed.

***

“Hello, Miss.” The chipper voice of the automated Newfangle Atmospherean Entrance Inspector filtered in through her comm-link. “Please state your name and business.”

“My name is Rayder Evenash. I was here to visit my friends before being abducted by the Assimilationists. I’ve just escaped and have valuable information to impart to the chief of police.”

A few moments of silence before crackly static filled the speakers; one of the human observers had come onto the comm.

“Report to the Newfangle City police department immediately,” the male directed. “I will let them know you will be arriving shortly.”

“Got it,” Rayder replied.

The doors of the inspection pod opened, and she was soon following air traffic to the Newfangle City Police Department’s airship docks.

***

“You are the only captive who has managed to return.”

The police chief paced the room.

“Yes, sir,” Rayder answered after the pause had gone on long enough.

“The story you just told me doesn't sound very desirable for our citizens. Where did you say they were headed?”

“I’m not sure. We were on the west side of the Julius galaxy when they tried to kill me, but it could have been a false trail. There was a planet with an atmosphere but it was full of these giant stalagmites of rock.”

“Sounds like the planet I-2002, or Iso. It was left abandoned because one side of the planet contains an underground chamber filled with a substance that can cause hallucinations if it’s gas is inhaled.” The police chief stroked his short, blond beard. “It's possible you have not inhaled any of it, but we shouldn’t take any chances.”

“So I could be hallucinating all of this.” Rayder grimaced. “Great.”

“Even if I affirm that you are truly sitting in front of me, I know it probably won’t do much to assure you,” the chief said.

“How can I tell if I’m hallucinating?”

“Go down 100 flights,” the chief said, taking out a holograph of the building and marking it up with a holo-stylus. “Then, take two rights to the break room. There should be at least one officer there who can drive you to our doctor”—the chief wrote an address on the side of the mini police department building—”and he can give you something to test for hallucinations.”

Rayder nodded, taking the hologram and studying it. “Thank you. Wait, why are you giving me this? What if I’m a spy?”

“Don’t worry, we extensively checked everything. You’ve gone through body scans for outgoing or incoming signals, waves of radiation that would fry any communication devices on your person if we missed any signals, metal detectors, pretty much everything we could legally do, including checking our files for your records.

“Additionally, this map will only show you exactly where you are going. You will not pass or see anything that we are keeping secret. The map itself is designed to be flawed, so even if you were going to use it to conduct some sort of break in, you wouldn’t be able to because, well, it would be all wrong. We also of course, have cameras and special lockdown procedures the minute our camera feed is sabotaged, or there is some kind of disturbance etc., so I’m not that worried.”

Rayder nodded once more. “Thank you very much, sir. Also, remember, if you see a middle-school aged girl or teenage girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, suspect them immediately. Do not underestimate them at all.”

“Will do, Miss,” the police chief replied. “I hope your hallucination test comes back negative.”

***

Her second right did, indeed, lead her to a large, sparse room with a couple chairs and vending machines as well as a few officers milling around.

“Um, excuse me,” Rayder started and they all looked up at her. “Hi—”

“Rayder?”

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the officer on the far left of the room, who had been brewing a coffee. Her hat was off and her platinum hair (in a bun) shone brightly under the lurid electric lights.

“Delphine? What are you doing here?”

Delphine grinned all of a sudden. “I did say that if the Assimilationists ruined our evening, I’d personally hunt them down, didn’t I, hon?”

“Um, I can’t remember that; that was like a week ago. I can’t believe you actually quit your job to join the police force.”

Delphine raised her eyebrows. “You think we haven’t been worried sick about you?”

“You managed to find Averi?”

Delphine winced. “Um, well, yes, but...it's complicated. Maybe we should start with why you happen to be here.”

“I need to go to the doctor,” Rayder said. “I need to test whether I’m hallucinating all of this.”

“When I get my hands on those Assimilationists... ” Delphine sighed. “I’ll take you, I guess. I’m already done for the day. Come on.”


	21. Still No Answers

“There is currently a 99.99% chance I’m not hallucinating,” Rayder informed Delphine, who’d waited in the hospital waiting room for the hour that Rayder had been subjected to so many tests, she couldn’t remember any of them except the blood test.

“That’s good,” Delphine said. “Now, let’s get out of here.”

Rayder did notice a couple of people trying not to stare at Delphine, who was still in her uniform.

“You didn’t tell your followers you joined the police?”

“I did, but honestly, I think most people thought I was joking or that I’m dating someone who has a police fetish.”

“What!? But you’ve been dating Zaré...”

“Just let it go, Rayder. A lot of people still think I’m straight or my relationship with Zaré is pretend. Now, come on; I’ve already told the gang that I found you and we’re on our way.”

Delphine drove this time, in an expensive but practical hover-SUV, and Rayder sat in the passenger seat.

“Tell me about everything,” Rayder said. “What happened?”

“I would have asked you first,” Delphine started, looking grim, “but I feel like I might smash something out of anger, so I’ll go first. Besides, you can tell the whole thing when we’re in front of the group.

“So, let’s start from when you got shot up into the sky. I was in serious pain and Zaré was fist-fighting an Assimilationist. A police officer came a few minutes later, literally a few seconds before Zaré collapsed. The girl just looked at her, pulled out her remote, called a drone over, and flew out of reach. Not that the officer even cared about her, he was too busy trying to handle both of us. So, yeah, she got away. We found the ambulances, but only because  _ we  _ were the ones hurt. Also, there were some news reporters trying to nose into it. That sucked.

“We waited like two hours until a medic was free, and she gave Zaré some painkillers and coffee. She set my ankle and bandaged it. Then I kept my ankle under that healing thing for another hour before we were finally able to leave.

“My ankle’s fine now, thank god, but when we came back to my apartment, Zaré immediately fell asleep on the couch and I just kind of sat there. I wasn’t really that tired, but I just couldn’t get up and honestly, I didn’t want to search for Averi alone or get Zaré into a panic attack if she couldn’t find me if she woke up.

“So after a while, I heard a knock on the door. Zaré was still asleep and the security hadn’t sent me any warnings, so I looked through the peephole and it was Adrien. Obviously, I was suspicious, so I used the intercom to talk to him. I asked him where Averi was, and he said he better come inside to tell us. I asked him whether it would be okay to fingerprint scan him first, and he said yes. By the way, the penthouse has a built in digital scanner, so I ejected the scanner and it turned out to be Adrien for real, so I let him in.”

“But where was Averi?” Rayder didn’t like the look on Delphine’s face.

Noticing Rayder’s look of secondhand fear, Delphine assured her, “She’s alive, don’t worry.”

“Um, your tone and your face are really making me worried.”

“I’ll get there soon, Rayder. Relax.

“So, where were we? Oh yes, I let Adrien in and he did not look so good. He definitely looked like he’d been through the riot; he had all these cuts and scratches and stuff, but his face was the thing that really made me worried. Kind of like he’d seen a ghost but was too afraid to tell anyone.

“He sat down and stared at the ground a little while. I didn’t want him to take forever, so I asked him to start and he said–oh look, we’re here! You’ll see for yourself what he said in a minute or two.”

“Your car can auto-park, right?” Rayder asked, eyeing the building like it was about to blow up.

“Of cour–”

Before Delphine could finish her second word, Rayder had dashed for the door.


	22. A Bad News Lasagna

Rayder burst into the penthouse and strode in, looking for any signs of ruckus.

Nothing.

The main entrance and living room were immaculate, as they normally were; not so much as a trinket out of place. She looked to the left–

“Rayder?”

Zaré, Adrien, and Averi, who looked completely fine, were grouped around the kitchen island, staring at her.

“I thought I’d never see you again!”

A sobbing Zaré was around the island and hugging Rayder before she could blink; Averi and Adrien close behind.

“Sure,” grumbled a sarcastic voice behind them, “don’t wait up for the person who owns the apartment.”

Delphine stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“I didn’t mean to,” Rayder said, sheepishly. “I was just so worried about–”

Everyone turned to Averi, who suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable.

Averi opened her mouth, but Delphine cut her off before she could speak.

“I haven’t told her the whole thing.”

Averi suddenly looked stricken.

“Which part were you up to?”

“Right before Adrien told us what had happened to you.”

Averi took a deep breath. “Maybe I shouldn’t be here for this.”

“It’s up to you, Averi,” Adrien said. “If you choose to leave, though, I’m coming with you.”

Averi—yes, the very same Averi who had refused to even give Adrien a chance—put her hand on his arm and looked at Adrien without a hint of disgust on her face.

“That’s not needed, Adrien,” Averi said, sounding sincerely gratified. “I’m going to stay.”

Delphine gave Rayder a  _ yes,-its-really-happening _ look before breaking in. “Well, I guess I’ll start telling what happened next. Everyone get to the couches!”

They did: Delphine sitting in her usual, plush, galaxy printed armchair, Zaré in a plain navy one next to her, Rayder in a black beanbag chair, and, most surprisingly, Averi and Adrien shared the two-seater sofa across from Delphine.

“Where was I, Rayder?” Delphine asked.

“Adrien just sat down and was about to say something.”

Averi subtly squeezed Adrien’s wrist. Everyone caught it.

Ignoring this, Delphine took a deep breath and began the rest of the story. “So, he sat down, very pale and eventually he told us that the restaurant he and Averi had been in, had been one of the ones that was first attacked. The front window was shattered and a couple of those solution-filled grenades had been set off.”

“One went off right near our table,” Adrien confirmed. He glanced quickly at Averi, who was looking uncharacteristically weak. “It–some of it got splashed on her arm...”

“What?!”

Rayder could feel the blood drain from her face as she rushed to Averi and pulled up one sleeve, then the other sleeve.

And there it was.

Warped, blackened flesh dotted her arm—not as dark as Rayder’s initial patch, but horrific all the same.

“What have the doctors said?” she demanded.

Averi swallowed and opened her mouth, but Adrien answered for her. “They’re not sure. The cases are all different, but they’ve concluded that there was water mixed in, so it’s less effective than a 100% concentration.”

Rayder nodded, not knowing how else to respond. “You’ll get... used to it,” she said, hesitantly.

“You will,” Adrien agreed. “We’ll help.”

Rayder raised her eyebrows at Adrien. “Finally told them about it, did you?”

Adrien turned red. “No. I was referring to all of us.”

“Oh... oh my god, sorry.” Feeling her cheeks rising in temperature, Rayder glanced at the rest of her friends who were watching the exchange with confusion. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Adrien said. “They deserve to know, I guess.”

Rayder nodded and returned to her seat, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Sorry, Adrien.”

Adrien waved off her third apology. “It’s fine. I should have told you guys earlier anyway.”

“But what  _ is _ it, exactly?” Delphine asked, impatiently.

Adrien took a deep breath, then peeled off his gloves and pushed his sleeves back.

Both forearms and his right hand were mottled with dark assimilized flesh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Well, you didn’t have to,” Averi pointed out, rationally. “It  _ is _ kind of hard to share.”

“That doesn’t explain why Rayder knew you were assimilized,” Delphine broke in. “Or even why she knew you before you knew us.”

Rayder and Adrien exchanged a glance, wondering who would speak first.

Rayder steeled herself, but Adrien beat her to it.

“We were part of the same physical therapy group after we were assimilized. She was assimilized in the Army, but my first plane was hijacked and the protesters basically tried to torture information out of us. We barely made it out of there after reinforcements arrived. After PT, I had to go back to school to relearn how to fly with assimilized arms.”

His voice was bitter, a bitterness that Rayder herself kept in a tightly wound ball inside of her. Most assimized war veterans experienced this in some way: the regret and anger and hopelessness that became their very being.

“My assimilation is less severe than Rayder’s,” Adrien continued. “Mine is growing at an extremely slow rate.”

Rayder nodded morosely. From a dot at her ankle to her entire leg up to half her thigh in a matter of years was spectacularly fast for someone so young.

For a while, no one spoke. There were no words that would heal such injuries and none of the three assimilized cared for them. The two who were not assimilized understood this and endured the silence until one of them spoke.

“Has it ever... gone away?” Averi asked, in a small voice.

Rayder was disarmed once more at the suppressed fear in Averi’s voice. There was so much she’d missed living in the dregs of Omicron, and now, being captured by her worst enemy.

“Not for anyone,” Rayder said, not wanting to give false hope.

Adrien put a hand on Averi’s shoulders. “You will get used to it though.”

Averi nodded and fixed her eyes on her little dark patch.

No one spoke for a full minute, until Rayder’s stomach grumbled loudly.

“It’s officially dinner time,” Delphine said, brusquely, dissolving the mournful mood. “I’ll order something.”

When Delphine left, Zaré walked over to Averi and pulled her into a hug. As much as she would have been comforted by it, Rayder stayed where she was. She’d been afraid of a lot, coming to Newfangle, but this was by far her worst nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My future chapters for this story will come very slowly and infrequently, so don't hope too much. I'm busy with a lot of work, other ideas, and my inspiration and motivation for this book is quickly running out. Good job if you made it this far and I hope you had fun reading it!


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